Acres, Natalie - Cowboy Boots and Unsettled Debts [Cowboy Boots 3] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever) (6 page)

Abby was accustomed to compliments. She’d been told she was sexy and beautiful, witty and charming, but this superficial prick was the easiest mark she’d ever met in her life. For a man who watched for trouble, Juraz sure didn’t protect himself from all forms of danger.

“Are you all right?” Juraz asked, compassion in his voice.

“Yes,” she replied, allowing him to guide her away from her team’s table.

“Must’ve been a bad experience,” he whispered, smoothly escorting her to a nearby table. “But you’re sure that man didn’t harm you, right?”

“Yes,” she rasped. “Thank you.”

“I’m Juraz Mendete,” he told her, gently taking her hand.

“Abby Rose,” she said, allowing him to raise her fingertips to his lips. “Thank you again.”

“The pleasure is mine. This is my club. I can’t have my guests upset by other patrons.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Really.”

His gaze traveled over her, and with a cocksure tilt of his head, he said, “That’s precisely what I thought when I first saw you tonight. I haven’t met another woman like you. That’s for sure.”

She forced a shy smile. Instead of brushing up on Domination and submission, she should’ve been working on her acting skills.

“I’ve made you blush.”

“I’m not used to compliments,” she said sourly, shooting a cold glare in Porter’s direction. She hoped the stare wasn’t overkill. Porter frowned. After the heated kiss he took for the sake of the mission—bull hell—she didn’t want him to misinterpret her meaning.

Then again, her mouth still burned. His lips made her pussy sizzle. She glared again. He deserved to squirm a little.

“I can ask them to leave.”

“No,” she said. “I work with those men. I don’t want to cause a scene.”

“A woman who looks like you shouldn’t work,” Juraz said, holding up two fingers at a passing cocktail waitress. “Women such as yourself should be pampered, adored, and treated to the finest this world has to offer.”

“Sounds nice,” Abby drawled. “That kind of life just wasn’t in my cards.”

“One can never be sure,” Juraz said, winking. “What do you do, Abby?”

“I’m a security advisor for IBC Communications based in Southwest Virginia.”

“Really?” Juraz asked, leaning forward as soon as they took a seat at an intimate booth meant for two. “What brings you to
Chicago
?”

“We were here for a training class, but we head back tomorrow,” she replied, glancing over at her fellow operatives. “We saw the flashing signs about the new adult-lifestyle resort you’re opening in the South and thought we’d come in for a bit of information.”

“Now I see why you didn’t want your friends escorted out. It could make your flight home rather unpleasant, I suppose.” A beat later, he added, “So your employer doesn’t have a policy in place about dating coworkers?”

She took a deep breath, and rather than provide a response, she changed the subject. “Let’s talk about something pleasant. Tell me about the extended-stay plans for Camp South Holston.”

He narrowed his gaze. “How did you know about that?”

She pointed toward the bar where an enlarged aerial photograph was displayed. She tried to portray the girl next door ready to share her memories with a man she’d just met. “I went to camp there as a girl.”

“You didn’t!” Juraz seemed excited.

“Yes! I did.” She sat against the cushioned support and crossed her arms and legs. “I have to tell you, after class today, I almost went back to the hotel room. I thought a little downtime sounded more appealing than running around
Chicago
. Then, I saw the billboard. Imagine my surprise when I discovered a new adult club is slated to open soon in the South.” She pointed at the bar. “And then I discovered Camp South Holston will become a lifestyle resort.” Her hands formed a steeple, and she tucked them under her chin. “This is like déjà vu.”

“How?” he asked, arching a brow as if he didn’t buy her story.

“I feel like a little girl again. You don’t understand. When I was a child, there wasn’t a better place to be in the summertime. We had such a grand time there.” She paused for a second and then said, “Are you from Abingdon?”

He shook his head. His dark eyes dimmed as if he were torn between believing her enthusiasm for his new business and passing her off as a woman he should potentially avoid.

“I didn’t think so. Well, here’s the thing,” she drawled, “There isn’t much to do in Abingdon. Outside of the Virginia Highlands Festival, there’s really nothing much for kids to look forward to.”

He frowned. “I bought the property with steadfast intentions of turning the camp into an adult-lifestyle retreat.”

“I understand that,” she assured him, patting his arm. “You asked about the déjà vu, remember? I just have that old familiar excitement. I can’t wait to visit your resort. Will you still maintain the waterfront?”

He arched his brow and acted very suspicious then.

“Camp South Holston owned three docks when I spent my summers there. The counselors used the larger marina for sailing classes. The pier with numerous boat slips was used for water-ski instruction, while the cove area was designated for canoe classes, which I enjoyed.”

“Do you remember the stables?” Juraz asked, setting off alarms as he dismissed answering questions about the waterfront.

“Yes, I spent a lot of time at the equestrian center. I was on the drill team,” she stated proudly.

“What was the drill team?”

She closed her eyes and dramatically replied, “Ah, Juraz. It was the elite group of camp riders. Only the best, those truly talented in horsemanship, were permitted to join.”

He rolled his tongue over his bottom lip and said, “I can see where you must’ve been an admirable equestrian. I’m told it’s all in the legs.”

Ah hell. Here we go.
She might as well take the first leap of faith and get this party started. The sooner the host entertained his guest, the sooner they could put this mission behind them.

She leaned over and bumped her breasts against his arm. “You’re right,” she quietly assured him. “It’s all in how well a rider tightly grips the mount underneath her.”

* * * *

Ace snarled. “I will spank her when this is over.”

“Sure you will,” Casey said. “About like Porter plans to put a dildo in her pussy and paddle her twat.”

“I never said that,” Porter said, keeping a keen eye on Abby.

“Talk about that kiss and I’ll deck you,” Ace said.

“Damn, those lips were sweet,” Porter teased.

Ace faced him. “I wasn’t kidding.”

Porter took a deep breath. Sometimes Ace’s attitude was a real obstacle. He was a smart-ass SOB when he wanted to be. Standing about six foot four, Ace was nothing more than layers of muscle. The only soft spot the man possessed was the one he held in high regard, too—Abby Rose.

“I say we take him out right here,” Casey said, always ready to jump the gun.

Casey looked like a kid, and very often Porter reminded himself Casey wasn’t a child, hard to do since the guy looked like a surfer boy of about eighteen. Only a year separated them. Porter was twenty-nine. Casey followed only a year behind.

Still, Casey was a trained killer just like the lot of them. Under normal daily circumstances, he was such a klutz and a clown, but when he aimed his gun and pulled the trigger, no one had a more accurate shot.

Fowler folded his hands atop the table. “I’m ready for this to be over.”

“What’s wrong, Fowler,” Ace taunted him. “Afraid Juraz is gonna slide in there before you do?”

“He won’t be a-tappin’ that. I’ll promise ya.”

Porter and Ace exchanged a knowing stare. Porter shook his head in warning. It wasn’t worth the argument. They all recognized the possible scenarios. The best they could hope for was the most favorable. If Abby went to bed with Juraz, they wanted her to kill him before she was forced to fuck him.

Unfortunately, they needed information from Juraz before she pulled the trigger. And he probably wouldn’t open his mouth unless she first spread those long, shapely legs.

Chapter Four

Abby had to give Juraz props. As much as she hated giving credit to a damnable thug, he was an attentive man, a good listener and great conversationalist. He was charming, witty even. And he was easy on the eyes.

None of that mattered. Hatred came easy when a ruthless individual took the lives of the innocent.

“So as I was saying,” Juraz began, returning to the topic at hand after being interrupted by one of his staff members, “I’m an entrepreneur. My family settled here in the seventies. After college—I graduated from UCLA with a business degree—I decided to start my own chain of restaurants. I became bored, though. I’ve always been drawn to the bar scene.” He scanned his crowd and added, “I lean toward opening businesses the BDSM-lifestyle crowd find most appealing.”

“You’re obviously good at what you do,” she said, noting the standing-room-only occupancy.

Abby forced a smile, but she’d never forget who was in her company. Juraz was a killer, the man who slaughtered the one person who meant more to her than anyone else in the world. Not that the world bothered to notice the connection between herself and Conrad McDaniels. Brantley and Ace knew her secret, but they never made mention of the fact, not even after Conrad died.

Shifting her gaze toward her the fellow agents seated nearby, she scanned their faces. Ace must’ve guessed she was thinking about Conrad. He snipped in her ear, “I’ve got ’cha in my sights, baby. Now relax. Everything will be all right.”

She jerked as a statuesque cocktail waitress set a bottle of champagne on their table. The woman issued a hard stare then provided Juraz with an icy glare. She didn’t wait until the cork was popped. She turned, and right before she strolled away, Abby spotted the tears welling in the woman’s set eyes.

Abby pretended not to notice. She recognized the young woman from the pictures in Juraz’s file. She was Juraz’s current sub, the companion who’d spent the last seven years in the cartel leader’s bed.

Poor thing ought to celebrate.
She was being replaced, and thanks to Abby’s team, she’d disappear without a trace rather than be eliminated like her two predecessors.

After champagne was poured, Juraz raised his glass and handed off a long-stemmed flute as well. “To new beginnings.”

The fluid sparkled. The glasses clinked.

Juraz moistened his lips and kissed her cheek. “This is a fated moment, Abby. You have no idea what I have in store for you. Trust me. I think we were brought together for a reason.”

“I believe that, Juraz,” she cooed, pushing aside the need to revisit the horrific images that would forever be embedded in her head.

Her father was slaughtered. Her siblings, murdered. Juraz Mendete had a target on his back, and as Conrad McDaniels’ daughter, she had an obligation. As Donovan had pointed out—an eye for an eye.

“There’s no convincing you, is there?” He smiled, perhaps gloated. “I have the most beautiful woman seated at my table, and she appears to have as much interest in me as I have in her. Life is sweet. Yes?”

“It is indeed,” she replied. Forcing an adoring smile, she lowered her eyes, and tried to step right into the role of a submissive.

Juraz took her hand. “Show me, sub. Show me more of what I can look forward to in the near future.”

Abby swallowed the lump in her throat. Damn bastard probably believed she was in awe of him. Pretending she was interested in Juraz would be the hardest task of her life. Before she doubted herself or questioned her abilities, she rose to her feet, bowed her head, and knelt at his feet.

For a second there, she thought she might lose her dinner—the earlier rock shrimp she’d consumed wasn’t sitting well given her predicament. Then, she heard Porter’s whisper in her ear. “Sweet sunshine, look at how well she fell into the willing sub act. Damn, Ace. I bet that cock can go from flat and flaccid to fat and sassy in no time, huh, buddy?”

“Abby knows where to find a hard one when she’s ready.”

Truer words had never been spoken. On rare occasions, Ace had rubbed up against her, and anytime she found his erection against her behind, she dampened her panties. A time or two, he’d gotten her so worked up she could’ve sworn she’d taken a dip in a swimming pool.

Okay, so maybe that was a slight exaggeration. Maybe.

Her nipples hardened as she gave Ace a sideways glance, careful to keep her eyes lowered. She parted her knees and crossed her ankles behind her.

After studying various images of Juraz with his past and current subs, she’d tried her best to perfect the positions she thought he might most appreciate. He apparently approved the effort.

“Look at me,” Juraz crooned. His black eyes were as dark as coal with a certain shimmer just like the rock. He moistened his lips. “You are exquisite.”

She twitched. She swayed a bit. Oh boy, she was certain to be sick.

“Easy, baby.” Ace’s voice came through the earpiece, and he sounded as sweet as honey. “Take your time. You’re fine, Abby. Pull it together, baby. Draw on that inner strength.”